As Lady Annabel thought it was as well that the mother and the son
should not be immediately thrown together after this storm, she kindly
proposed that they should remain, and pass the day at Cherbury; and,
as Plantagenet's eyes brightened at the proposal, it did not require
much trouble to persuade his mother to accede to it. The day, that had
commenced so inauspiciously, turned out one of the most agreeable,
both to Mrs. Cadurcis and her child. The two mothers conversed
together, and, as Mrs. Cadurcis was a great workwoman, there was
at least one bond of sympathy between her and the tapestry of her
hostess. Then they all took a stroll in the park; and as Mrs. Cadurcis
was not able to walk for any length of time, the children were
permitted to stroll about together, attended by Mistress Pauncefort,
while Mrs. Cadurcis, chatting without ceasing, detailed to Lady
Annabel all the history of her life, all the details of her various
complaints and her economical arrangements, and all the secrets of her
husband's treatment of her, that favourite subject on which she ever
waxed most eloquent. Plantagenet, equally indulging in confidence,
which with him, however, was unusual, poured all his soul into the
charmed ear of Venetia. He told her how he and his mother had lived at
Morpeth, and how he hated it; how poor they had been, and how rich he
should be; how he loved the abbey, and especially the old gallery, and
the drums and armour; how he had been a day-scholar at a little school
which he abhorred, and how he was to go some day to Eton, of which he
was very proud.

At length they were obliged to return, and when dinner was over the
postchaise was announced. Mrs. Cadurcis parted from Lady Annabel with
all the warm expressions of a heart naturally kind and generous; and
Plantagenet embraced Venetia, and promised that the next day he would